


History in the Making

by ereshai



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Getting Together, Injury, M/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 16:02:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9131542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ereshai/pseuds/ereshai
Summary: If Phil makes it through this, he’s going to add a new chapter to SHIELD’s field manual, entitled “What Not To Do When You Encounter Strange Machinery in an Evil Scientist’s Lair”. It’s very specific, but he thinks Nick will okay it.All he has to do now is not die.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [epeeblade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/epeeblade/gifts).



> There is a brief description of a healed injury and a short fight scene. Please feel free to ask for more details if you have any concerns.

“No!” Phil reaches out, but he’s too far away to stop the junior agent from tripping over some cables and landing on the control panel of the mysterious machine they’d just discovered. The junior agent tries to catch himself – one hand lands on the keyboard and the other on a big red button. Everything lights up. This isn’t going to end well.

There’s a bright flash and a vibrating hum like a swarm of bees sweeps through Phil’s body.

If Phil makes it through this, he’s going to add a new chapter to SHIELD’s field manual, entitled “What Not To Do When You Encounter Strange Machinery in an Evil Scientist’s Lair”. It’s very specific, but he thinks Nick will okay it.

All he has to do now is not die.

* * *

 

Phil comes back to his senses laying on the floor of a small waiting room. After the total absence of light and sound and feeling, the sunlight filtering through the drawn blinds is almost blinding; the silence presses against his ears.

The click of heeled shoes sounds outside the room, rising and fading as the person passes the door and continues on their way.

He sits up and looks around; the room is sparsely furnished with slightly shabby vintage furniture. He recognizes the style from his research into the early days of SHIELD and its predecessor, the Strategic Scientific Reserve. If it’s really that old, it’s incredibly well-maintained. It’s like he’s part of a museum display of the dullest room in any 1940’s office building. He hopes this isn’t some sort of heavenly waiting room – there’s more than enough bureaucracy in his life, he doesn’t need it in his afterlife, too. Unless he’s bound for the other place, then it might be a fitting punishment. On the other hand, has he really done anything that deserves an eternity of punishment _or_ reward? Has anyone?

He shakes his head sharply. None of that has anything to do with the matter at hand.

Phil gets to his feet, moving sluggishly; his body feels heavier than it usually does. Once he’s standing, he takes a moment to regain his equilibrium. Everything is off-kilter and it’s making him dizzy. Or maybe it’s the other way around. Once he feels steady enough, he walks over to the lone window. All it reveals is the curved corrugated metal side of a Quonset hut set very close by and a patch of blue sky above it. It’s possible he’s on some sort of military base.

He braces himself against the window frame and closes his eyes until the odd swooping feeling in his stomach subsides. Then he turns away from the window and studies the room once more. On the floor near where he had been laying is a brown leather satchel-style briefcase.

The disorientation dissipates as he walk over to the briefcase; he’s no longer woozy by the time he bends down to pick it up. It has a sturdy clasp with an unusual lock securing it. It’s possible that he could pick it, given the right tools and enough time.

In the hallway, more footsteps approach; pause outside the door; continue on.

Phil gives the room another quick once-over. There are no desks or any other obvious places to search for a length of wire. He reaches for the lock to get a closer look and that’s when he notices he’s missing the last two fingers of his left hand. It’s not a new injury, but the scar tissue is pink and sensitive to the touch. The remaining fingers are scarred as well, limiting flexibility. They are also shorter and thicker than he knows his fingers to be.

This is not his hand.

This is not his body.

Phil looks around the room again, but there’s still nothing helpful, either for telling him where ( _who_ ) he is or getting into the briefcase. Then a thought occurs to him, so obvious he feels like smacking himself upside the head, and he gives himself a modified pat down. He finds a small, strange key in a hidden pocket on the inside of his suit jacket.

After some fumbling with the unusual key and lock, he opens the briefcase. Inside there is… nothing. Not a single piece of paper. There are no obvious hidden compartments. He has no idea who he’s supposed to be or why he’s here – his previous search for the key hadn’t turned up any sort of identification, either.

More footsteps in the hallway. This time, instead of moving past the door, they stop, and the doorknob turns. Hastily, Phil closes the briefcase and shoves the key back in its pocket. He’s still standing awkwardly in the middle of the room when the door swings open.

Phil catches his breath. Standing in the doorway is Peggy Carter.

“Agent Billings? Everything all right?”

Apparently he’s some sort of _Quantum Leap_ -esque time traveler. All in a day’s work, right Phil? He can’t imagine what his face – this body’s face – is doing to cause that slight look of concern Agent Carter is giving him. At least he has a name to answer to now.

“Yes. Yes, everything’s fine, Agent Carter.” He clears his throat. It’s disorienting to hear someone else’s voice when he speaks. Very disorienting. If – when – he gets back home, he’s going to put himself through the Undercover course again; it had obviously been too long since he’d qualified on the Voice Modification Apparatus module.

Agent Carter gives him a short nod. “Come with me, please.” She turns and walks away without waiting for him.

Phil follows after her. The hallway is claustrophobically narrow and he has to resist the urge to duck every time they pass under a light fixture. On the plus side, he and Billings seem to be close to the same size, so he’s adjusting fairly quickly to his borrowed body.

They make their way down several flights of stairs, putting them well underground. On the bottom-most floor, Agent Carter leads him through a door that opens into a large room with several metal doors set in each wall. A small plaque is set next to each one, but they are all blank, as far as Phil can tell.

Agent Carter looks around the room, then abruptly turns to the right and opens the nearest door.

“Here we are.” She holds the door open and gestures for him to proceed her. Phil steps into a room filled with rows upon rows of metal shelving, boxes filling every space, but he barely has time to take it all in before he’s being slammed back against the wall. Then Agent Carter’s fist is flying at his face and he blocks it, and takes the knee she aims at his groin with his thigh. He shoves her away and backs away, his hands in the air.

“I’m not your enemy, I promise,” he says quickly when she’s about to launch herself at him again.

“Who are you? What have you done with Agent Billings?”

“I honestly have no idea. Wait,” he says when Agent Carter raises her fist. “I’m not sure how I ended up in Agent Billings’ body. I have to assume he’s in mine. You see, I’m-“

“From the future,” Agent Carter says, resigned.

“Oh. You already know.”

“Not very much. In fact, nothing at all, other than the fact that this has happened before.” Agent Carter straightens her jacket and smooths down her skirt.

“I have to say, I was not expecting you – anyone – to believe me that easily. Or at all.”

“Yes, well, I am one of the very few people who would believe you, and the others would have shot you at once.”

“Then I’m glad you only tried to beat me senseless.”

“You’re welcome. Come, there’s someone we need to speak with about this.”

Phil picks up the briefcase he’d dropped during the fight and once again follows Agent Carter out the door. They don’t have far to go, though, just as far as one of the doors across the large room.

This time, Agent Carter knocks before opening the door. When she holds it open for him, he gives her a look, and she smiles.

“I promise I won’t try to beat you senseless unless you deserve it.”

“I’ll try not to deserve it, then.” Phil steps inside the room and immediately steps to one side, turning so he can keep an eye on the room and Agent Carter. He won’t underestimate her again – he already feels stupid for underestimating her the first time. He knows what she’s capable of.

“What’s he doing here, Peggy?” A man asks from across the room. He’s standing in front of a window, watching someone in a dimly lit room.

“We’ve got another visitor,” Agent Carter says lightly.

“And you didn’t knock him out and tie him up until he leaves again?” The man turns around and Phil sucks in a surprised breath. It’s Bucky Barnes.

“Well, he wasn’t trying to kill me, so I thought I’d give him the benefit of the doubt.”

“Kill you?” Phil asks.

“You’re not our first visitor from the future, but they usually try to kill me on sight.”

“Well, the device that must have done this was found in a Hydra lab we cleared out, so-”

“That explains all the ‘Hail Hydras’ before Peggy busts their skulls,” Barnes says drily. “Just think, Pegs, you’re such a pain in Hydra’s rump they’re still mad about it decades later and they created a time machine just to get rid of you.”

“A dream fulfilled.”

“Anyway, it matches up with what he told us.” Barnes turns and looks through the window again. “Why hasn’t he gone back like the others?”

“Perhaps our new visitor has some insight?” Agent Carter joins Barnes at the window.

“I’ll tell you what I can, but I don’t know how helpful I’ll be. I had no idea I’d traveled through time until I saw Agent Carter.” Phil isn’t sure what’s going on, but he has a suspicion they were talking about another ‘he’.

“Billings being helpful, will wonders never cease?” Barnes smirks at him.

“He was so polite to me, I knew immediately it wasn’t him.”

“Too bad he has to go back.” Barnes shakes his head. “I don’t see why he has to be stuck in there. We know he isn’t a threat. If he was, he’d have busted out of there on his own already.”

“You know Colonel Phillips won’t allow him to be released.” Agent Carter sighs.

Phil lets his curiosity get the better of him and walks over to look through the window. On the other side of the glass is Steve Rogers. He’s lying on a narrow bed, tossing a crumpled ball of paper into the air and catching it.

“What should we call you?” Barnes asks him.

“What?” Phil tears his gaze away from Captain America – Captain America! – to look at Barnes and Agent Carter.

“You aren’t Agent Billings-“ Agent Carter begins.

“Thank God,” Barnes mutters.

“Language,” Agent Carter says. “We’re just wondering how we should address you, as you are very decidedly not the unlamented Agent Billings.”

“My name is Coulson. Phil Coulson.”

“Well, Mr. Coulson, we’re taking it on faith that you aren’t an agent of Hydra. Anything you can tell us about this time traveling business would be helpful.”

“And if you could give us anything that will help us end this pesky war we’ve got going on...”

“Ah, I’m not sure if I should-“ From the corner of his eye, Phil sees that Cap- Rogers is now juggling several pieces of crumpled paper, weaving complex patterns in the air. “Who is that?” he demands.

“What?”

“He’s in there because he isn’t currently Steve Rogers, right? Who is he?”

“He says his name is Clint B-“

“Barton.” Phil braces himself on the window frame. “He’s alive.”

“Friend of yours?” Barnes asks curiously.

“Yes. Can I speak to him?”

Barnes and Agent Carter exchange a look before Agent Carter nods. “I’ll take you in now.”

Agent Carter takes him back out into the main room and goes to the door next to the one they’d come out of. “This door only opens from the outside. Let us know when you’re ready to come out.”

“Thank you, Agent Carter. I appreciate this.”

Phil nods and Agent Carter opens the door. “You have a visitor,” she calls out cheerfully.

“I hope it’s not Old Thunder Britches,” comes the snarky reply.

“Not at all. He and Colonel Phillips don’t get along,” she whispers to Phil.

“Typical Barton,” Phil says with a small smile. He goes into the room and the door closes behind him.

He’s in the same room as Steve Rogers, who is looking at him curiously. Only it isn’t Rogers, Phil reminds himself.

“Barton,” he begins, but he’s not sure how to proceed. Clint had been listed as officially MIA after missing several check-ins during a long-term undercover mission to investigate rumors of a secret Hydra base. Phil knows he should follow the protocol; there are code phrases he can use to prove his identity and confirm Clint’s. But then there’s the personal element; Clint is not only a fellow agent, but a trusted friend, and when Phil is being honest with himself, someone he cares for deeply, and part of him wants to reconnect with Clint through memories only the two of them share.

“Who are you?” Clint stands up, poised for action. Phil knows what Clint is capable of. How much more dangerous is he with Captain America’s super-strength at his disposal?

“Delta 2827, the call is ‘alabaster’.”

Clint sags in relief. “Echo 7505, the response is ‘ephemeral’. Phil? You’re here?”

“In a way,” he says, indicating his current state. Phil desperately wants to give Clint a hug, but the fact that neither of them are in their own bodies would make it awkward. Very awkward.

“Yeah. So hey, how cool is this?” Clint holds out his arms and spins around. “I’m Captain-freaking-America.”

“Very cool.” Phil had dreamed of meeting Captain America when he was a boy. This was not how he’d pictured it.

“So I hope you’re here with good news, like I’m going home soon?”

“Frankly, I’m only here because of an accident.”

“Don’t tell me they got their hands on you, too.” Clint groans and sits down heavily on the bed.

“No, we took their base. We were conducting a room by room search when someone tripped in the lab.”

Clint laughs.

“Since we’re in possession of the machine and the personnel who operated it, it won’t take Nick long to persuade them to tell our techs how it works.”

“Do we even know if we can go back? I’ve been here for-fucking-ever, I swear.”

“There must be a way. Apparently, several Hydra agents have been sent here to eliminate Agent Carter, and from what she and Barnes were saying, they eventually went back to their own time.”

“It is so fucking weird to hear you speaking with someone else’s voice, let me tell you.”

“Try meeting several childhood idols all in one day. Well, two at least.”

“Hah, yeah. I’m sure. Bucky and Peggy.” Clint looks away, his cheeks pink. “And Steve.”

“What-“ A vibrating hum like a swarm of bees sweeps through Phil’s body and everything goes black.

* * *

 

Phil opens his eyes and immediately closes them again. Everything is too bright and loud and-

“I’m on the floor, aren’t I?”

“Yes, sir?”

He sits up, fighting the dizziness that comes along with the movement. “Agent Barton? They found him?”

“Yes, sir. He’s with the Medical team now. Sir, you shouldn’t get up-“

Phil gets to his feet and hurries out of the Hydra facility as quickly as he can remember the way. He adjusts to being back in his own body almost instantly, most likely because of how little time he spent as Billings. It had to be much worse for Clint. If they’d managed to bring him back…

Per protocol, the Med team is set up in the transport; Clint is their only patient. Phil finds him strapped to a gurney, surrounded by personnel.

“Listen to me, I’m fine. I know exactly who I am. Do you want me to run through the whole name, rank, serial number spiel? Let me out of these things.” He’s tugging at the restraints on his wrists. The medics ignore him.

“Let him go,” Phil commands.

“Agent Coulson, perhaps you aren’t aware-“ one of them begins.

“I know very well what happened. He was subject to an exchange-of-consciousness event, as was I. We’ll report to Dr. Streiten when we return to HQ.”

The team tries to argue with him, but since neither of them are in any physical distress, Phil’s rank as senior SHIELD officer on-site is enough to countermand theirs in this instance.

Soon, they’re alone in the transport. Clint is sitting up and rubbing at his wrists.

“Thanks, boss. They must have found me when I was still, you know. Not myself.”

Without a word, Phil steps forward and pulls Clint into a hug. “I’m so glad we found you,” he whispers. “I don’t know what…” His voice fails him.

“Hey, hey. S’okay now. I’m glad you found me, too. I knew you would. Somehow.” Clint is patting his back awkwardly.

Phil pulls away. “I apologize, I shouldn’t have-“

“Don’t even finish that,” Clint says fiercely. “Listen, I spent a lot of time in a small room with not a whole lot to do, and there’s something I promised myself I’d do if I got back home. So just let me say this, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Phil, we’ve worked together a lot of years. You’re one of my best friends, and I’m damn lucky to have you in my life. And I’d be even luckier if you’d go out with me. On a date. What do you say?”

Phil stares at him. It’s so close to what Phil had wanted to ask him, it’s possible he’s imagining this. “Yes, I’d like that,” he answers quickly, before the bubble bursts. Thankfully, the world remains steady on its course. Clint grins at him.

“But it will have to wait until after your debrief and you’re officially cleared by Medical and Psych,” Phil reminds him. “I’m especially looking forward to hearing about your experiences with Sergeant Barnes and Agent Carter.”

Clint turns red. “Oh, yeah. Bucky and Peggy.”

“Anything you’d care to share, Barton?”

“Just, ah, when I first arrived in the past. Rogers was in an… _intimate_ situation. With Peggy.”

“I see.” Phil knows all about the speculation surrounding Steve Rogers’ relationship with Peggy Carter, of course. It seems to be speculation no longer.

Clint rubs the back of his neck. “And Bucky.”

“Huh,” is his only reply. He hadn’t been expecting that.

“The two of them look damn good naked, Phil. Damn good.”


End file.
